


The Hour Of Parting || Book Three

by thepublicserviceLP



Series: 2081 Series [3]
Category: 2081 Series, Original Work
Genre: Black Character(s), Book 3, British Character, Canon Autistic Character, F/M, Female Protagonist, Gen, Happy Ending, Language, Latino Character, Mafia (Minor Role), Male-Female Friendship, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Universe, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Series Finale, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepublicserviceLP/pseuds/thepublicserviceLP
Summary: A historian, detective, and doctor finish what they started and figure out where to go from there.
Relationships: Andrei Yahantov/Andree Delway
Series: 2081 Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895995
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

This parcel was needed.

  
As soon as it left the Clerk's hands and Charen had her hold on it, she bolted from the store, not caring of any slippery, bleak black ice frosting the pavement or the tender snowfall that tickled her usually warm cheeks.

  
Charen stopped her running, her knees bent slightly to the ground as her chest heaved with its intention and thirst for air, the parcel not helping with the weight of its contents burning into her aching arms.

  
The white flakes got caught between her lashes, kissing her lips with a wake-up call for the weather while she continued her path back to the temporary dwelling, her shoes disturbing any snow that would have blanketed the concrete by now.

  
She turned the corner, hopping down the sidewalk and shimmying her way into the tucked crevice of the staircase, met first with the sight of Drajika, who was kneeling on the floor and slaving over the panel - the inner workings of their little teleporter project.

  
Drajika wore a black and dark-grey striped sweater, its puffy sleeves rolled up to her elbows to accompany the heating that she and Charen were able to set up for the moment. She still wore a light grey hat, but with a bunched up, soft ball on the top of it.

  
Charen set down the box next to Drajika, who didn't even attempt hesitant eye contact with the box. Charen was used to it by now, Drajika would tighten her lips and pull those teal irises away from the attempted bond.

  
"You should take a break, you've been working on that thing since they've come here and our other box got burnt," Charen initiated with intense worry. Drajika shook her head, still focused on the panel as she switched one tool out for another.

  
"It is of utmost importance, so I will be treating it like it is. Will you please open the box for me?"

  
Charen rolled her eyes, picking it up and tapping the buttons on the side of the parcel. The top folds shot open, revealing identical-looking wires. She placed it back down.

  
"Thank you," Drajika set another tool in her left hand aside, plucking a wire from its container and setting it into the panel. Charen just watched her.

  
"'Jika, I should take over. In some sort of alternative universe you would have died on top of that thing," Charen joked, Drajika paused for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows before chuckling herself. "I trust you with its mechanisms, so I will allow you a shift," Drajika got up, rolling her neck with the following, tight snaps before she went over to the mattress in her corner and laid down on it, pulling the blanket over her and setting her hat aside next to her pillow.

  
Charen laid on her stomach, tossing her damp coat and hat to the side to work on the panel, lining up each wire to the beat of Drajika's breaths, which died out once she reached slumber.  
Charen occasionally propped her head up into her palm, pouting at the board whilst twirling a tool or cable between her fingers - figuring out what came next.

  
She occasionally lifted herself up, sitting with her legs crossed as she read and made through Drajika's detailed diagrams and notes (occasionally opting to cut out some of the rambling Drajika had written on the side of the spacious paper) and flipped the paper over, recording her own placements and notes as well.

  
The panel was comprehensible once Charen believed she figured it out, placing down a testing droid for the teleporter that Drajika also brought before the cables to test it out. She fiddled with the controller, finally teleporting the droid out of their dwelling. She rushed outside, only to see that most of the dummy's synthetic 'skin' had been burnt in the process. 

  
Charen sighed, picking the hovering droid up in her arms and going back to the place, taking notice of the snow against the gradient pitch-black and yellow sky, which signified the early morning and a forgotten sun.

  
She went back in, placing the droid on the pad but not teleporting it as it began the process of repairing its synthetic skin. Charen glanced longingly at the open panel, placing the lid on it but not closing it.

  
_So close, yet so far._

  
It had to be around 06:15 am, so Charen dragged herself into another corridor, collapsing onto her mattress and squeezing a furry plush between her arms, hiding her face in her pillow until she blacked out.

\---

Gretchen tapped out of his assigned room. He was alert and wide awake from his usual endeavoring of a 5:30 in the morning wake, however, he didn't leave his room until now.

  
The general meeting room was quiet with the temperament morning tension, save for Drajika's soft breathing in the corner with the rarely added wheeze from her. Gretchen walked over to her, debating whether or not to wake her but decided against it, going to her desk and sitting on her chair. He pulled out his personal pad, scrolling through recent news that popped up on his feed.

  
Around an hour later, Gretchen looked up to see Drajika stretching her legs with her back to Gretchen's beak before she finally turned herself to him.

  
"Good morning, Dr. Delacroux," Drajika said, pulling her hat on top of her head and getting up from the mattress. Gretchen placed his pad down onto his lap. "I wish the sentiment to you as well, Ms. Modra. It is currently 07:15 am and -6.1 degrees celsius with moderate snowfall," Drajika rolled her sleeves down. "I can feel it, Dr. Delacroux, but I thank you for the time and weather. It is very considerate," Drajika got up, going over to the panel and kneeling down, picking the lid off of it.

  
Drajika raised an eyebrow at it, but her face remained neutral. "Good amount of progress for the time she took over,"

  
"Do you have an estimate for when the teleporter will be ready for our use, Ms. Modra?"

  
Drajika nodded. "I will have it up and running by the afternoon, perhaps later into it,"

  
"Very well," Gretchen turned in the chair away from Drajika, continuing to scroll on his pad.

  
Drajika stared at the back of her chair, rapidly blinking at it before shrugging and retrieving one of her more complicated tools - a reflective, black and square frame that was hollow except for the thin, fine tendrils connected to the frame of the device. She dragged it over the panel, fixing it over it and flipping on the scope at the top of the device for Drajika to leer into.

  
Drajika hunched herself over the scope, tapping at the control panel in front of the scope to control the movements of the tendrils and its needles - plucking and working at the smaller circuits and occasionally shocking them as well.

  
"If you are to work until the 'late afternoon', I advise you to fix your posture to prevent any potential pain," Gretchen stated. Drajika kept using the device. "I will consider your advice," Drajika said.

  
Theodora entered the room, suddenly sliding on top of the desk corner and sitting on it, waving her legs nonchalantly as she looked down at Gretchen. He looked back up at her.

  
"Yes?"

  
"Morning!" she grinned, running her fingers on the table.

  
"You are positive this morning," Gretchen observed.

  
"How can I not be, Delacroux? After all, we might be leaving soon,"

  
"I am aware. Ms. Modra gave me a modest estimate of the late afternoon,"

  
"I guess that means Historia can keep sleeping, she's like a rock, Delacroux,"

  
"You seemed rather comfortable in rest at Arida Bellum," Gretchen shot back.

  
"You're...teasing? Did you wake up okay?" Theodora feigned her worry, patting Gretchen gruffly on the shoulder.

  
"Yes,"

  
Theodora laughed, tears clouding her vision from the intensity.

\---

"Did the training droid you put through your teleporter make it out unscathed?"

  
"Well, not exactly..." Charen answered.

  
Historia narrowed her eyes at Charen, before tossing over and covering herself with her jacket, covering her head with her pillow.

  
"Then don't make me get up for no reason unless I have to pack and get ready to leave,"

  
Charen whined. "Theo! She's not getting up!"

  
Theodora stomped into the room, pulling the jacket off and glaring at Historia.

  
"Get up, I don't want to say it again,"

  
"I only have my emulator to pack, I'm saving as much energy as I can, it's rather efficient, it would be best for you to try it, Theodora," Historia snarked.

  
"It's not our fault you won't miss a call, Historia. Get up," Theodora gripped Historia's ankle, nearly dragging her out of bed, causing Historia to finally jolt up and grip onto the mattress.  
"In a moment, Drill Sergeant, My lord," Historia protested, Theodora and Charen, shared a glance as Theodora let free a smirk and left the room, Charen with her.

  
Historia dragged herself to her suitcase, picking it up and throwing it onto her mattress. She picked up her emulator, set up in front of her mattress, and stuffing it into her suitcase. She closed it, buckling her coat around her shoulders and throwing her hat on.

  
"It's finished!" Charen called out from the main room. Historia rushed in, seeing them all around the teleporter. Historia approached them just as Drajika closed the lid on top of the panel, taking the control gently from Charen. 

  
"We'll test it now,"

  
"Fingers crossed!" Charen was nearly hopping in place as the droid disappeared, immediately shooting off to the entrance to retrieve it, like a puppy with an adored toy.

  
Theodora nearly bit at her nails, drunk on the suspense. Historia drew close to the entrance when she heard Charen's heavy footsteps nearby, Drajika froze in place.

  
Charen basically slipped in, revealing a spotless training droid.

  
"It's perfect!" she sobbed, Theodora and Historia broke out in soft clapping, Gretchen did so with a more vague, elegant golf clapping. Charen beamed at Drajika, who allowed a soft smile back.  
"Now that we have figured the teleportation situation out, what is your intended spot?"

  
"The Rotary Hotel in Libitina," Theodora leaned in to whisper the address in Drajika's ear. Drajika pulled away but typed it in. "It's a rather challenging target to attempt. Prepare yourselves for teleportation in one minute,"

  
"You booked it in advance, Theodora?"

  
"I did, don't worry about a thing, Historia,"

  
"Oh! We forgot to tell you something," Charen ran over to them, holding out three small, hook-like devices in her palm. The three took each one, analyzing it.

  
"I made it a few days ago, it's like an earpiece. Just slip it in and you'll get into contact with us! We wanted to be of further help in your mission," Drajika nodded with Charen's usual enthusiasm.

  
"The gesture is kind, Ms. Martinez," Gretchen said.

  
"We'll be using it. Should we put them on right now?" Theodora lifted an eyebrow.

  
"Yes!"

  
Theodora placed it on, as did Historia. Gretchen placed it into his pocket. "I will equip the device once we are at the hotel,"

  
"That's fair, of course," Charen smiled.

  
Theodora, Gretchen, and Historia went to the teleporter, stepping onto the large metal pad.

  
Drajika pressed the button to teleport them, their particles breaking up and floating in its glow with their last sight being Charen's friendly wave 'goodbye' and Drajika's face.


	2. Chapter 2

Historia raced to unbuckle her coat and put it around her shoulders once they appeared next to a teleportation booth.

  
The snowfall crescendoed - rapidly falling on the ground whilst Libitinians trudged by - interrupting the restless flow with their footprints and the crunching of the thick white powder beneath them.  
Theodora opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut when audio came through her earpiece.

  
"Did it work?" Drajika's voice projected.

  
"It did. Damn, I owe you and Charen at least a night out or something-"

  
"I'll ask her later," Drajika interrupted.

  
"We should keep moving," Historia stated, Theodora and Gretchen accepted this and walked through the snow, Theodora muting her earpiece's audio.

  
"You seem comfortable here," Historia looked back at Theodora. 'I've had to warp back to an older Federation many times in the past, it won't change that much,"

  
"I've figured,"

  
Historia clicked her tongue, stopping at the busy road with hover cars speeding past the buildings, intent on their intended location.

  
The street lights above flashed red, causing the hovercars to stop in their tracks, allowing for the three of them to pass to the other street quickly.

\---

The abstract white building above towered over them - its many lights revealing even the buildings down the street with people in thick, luxurious coats sitting on the tables placed outside with a steaming drink fit for the current weather.

  
"Theodora...you got THIS for us?" Historia's eyes tried to take in as much as they can if they even did stay in one spot at a time. Theodora chuckled. "Don't get too excited now, at least one of us will have to be sleeping on the couch,"

  
A door droid went to them, Theodora and Historia gathering behind Gretchen.

  
"Do you have a reservation?"

  
The droid tried to scan Gretchen, but with no avail due to the constricting mask.

  
"Yes,"

  
The droid kept leering at him until it turned around. 

  
"Follow," it commanded in a monotone, Historia and Theodora pulling their hats closer to their foreheads to shield their eyes whilst following Gretchen's lead.

  
The droid took Gretchen to a screen, which popped up at his presence. Gretchen reached out to it, filling it out and finally receiving three keycards.

  
"Would you like to be led up to your room?" The droid asked.

  
"That will not be necessary, however, I express gratitude at the sentiment,"

  
The droid took the statement in. "Welcome to the Rotary Hotel, we hope you enjoy your stay," he went away.

  
Gretchen handed the other keycards to Historia and Theodora.

  
"The 15th floor?" Gretchen held the card between his two fingers.

  
"Not too high up, not too low," Theodora answered.

  
They went to an elevator, their grip tight on their luggage (which they opted to carry themselves) as the elevator shot them up to their floor.

  
Taking the left hallway, tapering off to the room at the end of it, Gretchen swiped it, holding the door out to Theodora and Historia. They both entered.

  
The room was wide - a glass chamber in the middle of it with some sort of glowing material that easily revealed the entire space, with what appeared to be shelves on each side of it. Curved booth-like couches were lining the walls with long coffee tables in front of each one. On each side, there were two doors.

  
"I call dibs on a separate room!" Theodora shouted. Gretchen tapped on his walking stick. "I would prefer my room as well for the sake of my privacy,"

  
Theodora flashed a tantalizing smile. "Sorry, Historia," Historia placed her duffle bag and suitcase next to the left couch.

  
"No worries, I've probably fallen asleep more on my futon than my own bed back home," Historia teased, lounging on the couch.

  
Gretchen went to the replicators, synthesizing a cup of tea for Historia and placing it down on the table. She uttered a small "Thank you," and went to pick it up.

  
"Now that we're here, we'll have to get ready,"

  
"We're going to the Casino so soon?" Historia blew on the tea.

  
"We've waited long enough. There are only two showers but I can wait for you, Historia,"

  
"No, go first. I have to finish this cup,"

  
Theodora went to her room, pulling Gretchen in and whispering "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

  
"No," Theodora bit on her tongue, suspiciously giving Gretchen the side-eye before dismissing him.

Gretchen looked into his room's mirror, perched up on the wall. He adjusted the earpiece under his balaclava, holding his tophat in his opposite hand by its rim. He picked up a cloth, rubbing the lenses of his mask before placing his top hat back on and spraying himself with his usual cologne. He heard water running from the other shower.

  
Gretchen checked himself in the mirror before leaving the room.

  
There was a subtle amount of steam in the room, clouding the glass chamber in the middle and the large window that made up most of the front wall. It came from the other shower door that Historia was in - filling the room.

  
"Damn it!" Theodora grunted, stumbling into the room. She pulled a black hair tie out of her hair, wincing at the sensation.  
"Do you require assistance?"

  
"If you know how to make a hair tie tight enough, do it," Theodora tossed the tie to Gretchen, who went behind her. He brushed the extra strands from her face, allowing some of them to frame her face before tucking the rest of the hair behind her. He stretched the tie using all of his fingers, slipping the tie on and gently pulling her hair through its space. He turned the tie and hair two more times, finally grasping the end of Theodora's hair and pulling up the tightened ponytail.

  
Theodora's hand went to the back of her head, feeling its tightness.

  
"Thanks,"

  
Gretchen folded his hands in front of him. "It was not inconvenient,"

  
Historia pushed the door open, her face and hands red from the hot water of her shower. She wore a white, open blazer and pants with a blue blouse and black bolo tie around her neck.

  
"Fuck, Historia. You're red as hell," Theodora pinched her cheek, causing Historia to yelp and rub the affected area. 

  
"What, do you take lukewarm showers?"

  
"No, but I don't take showers in molten lava either,"

  
"I hope you cool down once we get there, you're suspicious as hell," Theodora and Historia began to laugh violently, Theodora hitting her chest with her fist. 

  
Historia picked up her duffle bag, stuffing her umbrella in it and closing it. Gretchen held the door open for them, Historia running out of the room with her duffle bag on her shoulder. Gretchen scanned the room - some of the doors for Theodora's chosen bedroom and the showers left ajar in the measly wind of the hotel room before they left for good.


	3. Chapter 3

Gretchen found casinos relatively harmless, merely existing for mortals to try their luck and perhaps be rewarded for such valorous attempts at easy wealth. Nobody would get hurt.

  
Until rigor mortis set in,

  
and the coroner arrived.

  
Historia remained skeptical of the recent attention the Grand Casino garnered, her breathing remained brief with her every need - curt around such people.

  
"They're only around to meet Telltale," Historia claimed.

  
"They'll call it kind, I call it two-faced," Theodora snapped back.

  
The doors gradually swung open, with the number of people tapering off into the casino increasing as the reach of the doors became wider. Finally - the glass reflected the drowning density of life entering the machine.

  
"This is familiar, isn't it, Historia?" Historia crossed her arms, Theodora almost giggling giddily at the stubborn-hearted gesture.

  
Theodora's smile disappeared when she noted the scattered, but prominent amount of people. Although they were busy fulfilling the various games or temptations offered - they were unusually formal, with their identical, finely-pressed black suits with ties of different colors contrasting against the white dress shirts. Some wore bold, royal blue whilst others wore a pure, unchallenging white.

  
Some of them smoked, plucking a stainless electronic cigarette from their lips whilst others were busy fondling handsome women draped over their figures.

  
"You two, keep an eye out for the guys in the suits, Telltale might have brought along her little friends," Theodora spat with absolute venom, drifting away from the group to go to the bar. Historia and Gretchen glanced at each other, Historia shrugging before going to the dance floor.

  
Gretchen went over to the pool tables, which were usually empty but missing its usual faulty lights that dangled above them in smaller casinos he had visited.

  
One of the men in a suit waltzed over to him, picking up his cue that was leaning against the table.

  
"You look like a fine lass to play against," the man smirked at Gretchen, who kept his grip on his cue.

  
"Indeed,"

  
"I'll be striped,"

  
Gretchen agreed, arranging the balls into a rack in the middle of the table.

  
The other man flicked the screen set on the other side of the table, choosing Gretchen for the first turn.

  
The man clicked his tongue against his teeth.

  
"Your move."

\---

Gretchen lined up his cue against the white cueball, setting the wood back before finally letting it go and knocking it forward. It pushed the 8 ball into his designated pocket - the rest of the balls on the table rolling away idly from his force. Gretchen straightened himself, tapping his cue flat against the floor as the other man walked slowly towards him from the other side of the table, getting into Gretchen's 'face' and glaring into the lenses.

  
Gretchen stared back, taking note of the man's perfectly white tie, like the snow set outside.

  
Suddenly, the man slapped his calloused hand against Gretchen's pointed shoulder, giving him a toothy grin.

  
"The absolute audacity of you," he laughed, pressing his fingers against Gretchen's suit and digging into his arm. "I like this guy! Fine game, Mister,"

  
"I express my gratitude,"

  
The man set his cue on the side of the table, Gretchen leaning over to do so as well.

  
"That's great, Sir. Now, get the fuck out of my face," he teased darkly, Gretchen stepping back as the man looked over his shoulder to him and walking back to a more crowded pool table with the similarly dressed men, leering on with their former source of entertainment.

  
Gretchen went over to the dance floor, stepping onto it and looking for Historia, who he bumped into in the middle of the floor.

  
"Well, this brings back memories," Historia said, Gretchen, making a positive reinforcement to her comment with a deep noise from his throat. He held his hand out, Historia placing her on hand onto her chest and looking at the gesture.

  
"Would you care for a dance, as is the status quo for gatherings in this manner?"

  
"Why I had believed for a second you would not reprise our meeting moment, Dr. Delacroux," Historia accepted.

  
As they moved through the crowd, Gretchen leaned into Historia's ear subtly. 

  
"Have you found yourself acquainted with any of the suspicious men in the area?"

  
"No, I've gotten requests to dance but not from any of the suits. I've stepped on more toes than I have before entering this place. I also saw a suited man walking towards you near the Pool area, however, I didn't see the rest of your game,"

  
"I see, we will seek out Ms. Dallaway in a moment, but we have yet to receive any transmissions from Ms. Modra and Ms. Martinez,"

  
"They'll talk to us eventually, Doctor," Historia comforted.

  
Historia and Gretchen managed to make their way to the end of the brightly-colored, distracting floor, stepping out of the musky area.

  
"We're not mere strangers now, though," Historia repeated, a hand flying to her ear once she heard crackling from it. She hastily led Gretchen to a more secluded area behind a large pillar, pressing on the button of her earpiece.

  
"I'm here, Drajika. What's the news?"

  
"...I..yes, uh, Historia?"

  
"You sound distracted, Drajika. What's wrong?"

  
"It's...a lot of noise, outside of here...It's a bit bright too, I think I can't see,"

  
Drajika answered shakily.

  
"Where's Charen?"

  
"She's sleeping, she'll be okay, Historia, I promise, I promi-"

  
"Drajika, it'll be fine, go into one of the rooms away from the entrance until it goes away. What did you need?"

  
Drajika swallowed heavily from the other side of the line.

  
"Nothing, I just...I need to inform you that Constantine Telltale is entering your building in 58 minutes alongside William Ainsworth,"

  
Historia looked wide-eyed at Gretchen, pursuing her lips.

  
"Alright, thanks for the backup. Just hang in there until Charen wakes up, okay Drajika? Then you may sleep,"

  
"I...noted," Drajika tapped out. 

  
"Telltale got William too, I hope Theodora is ready to double her arrest count today,"

  
"Whilst we are on the topic of Ms. Dallaway, we shall find her immediately," Gretchen appeared from the pillar and went to find her at the bar. Historia fumbled with her earpiece slightly as she followed Gretchen down the Casino.

  
Historia and Gretchen found Theodora at the far end of the bar, hunched over the counter, and sipping on a shot glass of straight whiskey. She signaled the bartender for another, sliding her empty glass away in front of her.

  
"How many glasses of whiskey have you consumed?"

  
"Only three, not counting the one I just ordered," Theodora answered, her speech not slurred.

  
Gretchen held two fingers up. "Are you able to recognize the number my fingers are simulating?"

  
"Cut that shit out, I'm not drunk," Theodora pushed his hand out of her vision.

  
"Drajika was a bit bothered over the call, but she said William is also with Telltale," Historia told Theodora, hushed.

  
"Of course she did. Any contact with the suited guys?"

  
"I was about to bring that up. I haven't had any contact, but Gretchen played a few games of pool with one of them, he had a white tie,"

  
"And have you met any of them?" Historia added on.

  
"'Course not, who would bother the lone woman at the end of the bar just ordering straight shots?" Theodora looked up at the bartender who slid her other shot to her, thanking them quietly before sipping it.

  
"I'll take that as a 'no' then,"

  
"Alright," Theodora placed her half-empty shot down. "When are they coming? I just want to get this over with,"

  
"Drajika has said 58 minutes, but counting the time it took to get here, now it's 54 minutes,"

  
"You could have said an hour and I would be less annoyed," Theodora sighed.

  
"Ms. Dallaway, you do not seem particularly bothered by the suspicious density of suited men around. I suspect them to be the Mafia that Ms. Telltale is colluding with,"

  
Theodora pointed a curved finger to her shot glass. "Liquid courage," she mouthed out.

  
"Do you want to focus on any of the gambling here once you finish your glass?"

  
"I don't want to do anything that expects me to throw away money, Historia,"

  
Theodora received her tab, which she paid and signed. They stood up and went away from the bar.

  
"Theodora, they're looking for you. You just gave your information out, they could know you're here,"

  
"Drajika did me a favor and changed the name of my account for the time required. She'll change it back when I tell her to,"

\---

Somebody watched from the crowd, their hands stuffed into their pockets.

  
She raised an eyebrow at the conversation she managed to overhear, before looking away and furrowing her eyebrows, throwing her hood over her head and waiting with the remembered detail.


	4. Chapter 4

A servant girl stood on a rickety, wooden stool whilst her fingers worked at tucking in and adjusting Telltale's tie, running her hands to the lapels of Telltale's suit and ironing the kinks in the fabric out before stepping off of it.

  
Telltale looked in the mirror, turning her head occasionally to the side to see if the tight shirt collar and tie stuck out - but it kept its picture-perfect appearance.  
"Acceptable, you may leave,"

  
"Yes, Ms. Telltale," The servant girl responded meekly, going to leave but opened the door to see William, his arms behind his back loosely as he shot a sharp grin at her. The girl gulped, scurrying away from the room.

  
"Constantine, why do I have a feeling that your little servants don't like me?" William growled as he entered the room, both eyebrows shooting up. Telltale rolled her eyes, finishing a hip flask and throwing it to the side of the room with a metallic clank.

  
"Don't mind her, she's new. She'll get used to it,"

  
"I'd whip her into suitable perfection,"

  
"Yes, I know you, William. I'll bring the message to her later,"

  
"That would be most wise. Now, are you ready?"

  
"Of course, the Clientele could always stand for a morale boost," Telltale popped a mint into her mouth, chewing on it before swallowing.

  
They left Telltale's private room, going to the looming mezzanine of the casino but was stopped in their tracks by another man with a woman clinging to his arm and several guards circling the couple.  
"Mr. Andrei Yahontov, Mrs. Andree Delway," Telltale flashed a grin. Andrei remained stern, but Andree grinned back. "In the flesh!" she announced cheerfully.

  
"Mrs. Delway, may I say you look as radiant as ever?" William caught her hand, lavishing the dorsum with soft kisses. Andree giggled, placing her other palm on her cheek as Andrei glared at William.  
William pulled away, his sight still dancing on Andree's shorter form.

  
"I trust the services are to your liking, Mr. Yahontov?" Andrei nodded. "They are competent, my men are satisfied," he answered back, Andree leaning her head on his shoulder.

  
Andrei was a more withered man, with black hair but silver greys lining his temple, one strand of it sprouting from his still-youthful hairline. He wore an impressive coal-black suit with a blood-red tie. Over his mouth and nose, he wore a black bandana with the mouth of a skeleton over it. Andree had soft, beach blonde hair just past her shoulders with a slim hourglass figure, covered by a buff leather jacket. Her lips matched Andrei's tie. She also had a Glock strapped to her slim thighs.

  
"Well, may we walk to the heart of the building? It's where all the worthy sights are, after all," Andrei agreed quietly, allowing Telltale to lead them to the mezzanine, boldly pushing open the doors. Whilst some of the people were still pre-occupied with their gambling, dancing, or drinking, most of the crowd looked up at them, gasping and pointing.

  
"I would like to thank all of you for coming to this event on behalf of all of the staff and my colleagues, loyal to my side. However, I would not want to interrupt your fun, of course. You may continue and pay no mind to our presence," Telltale clapped her hands together, her voice projecting in the room. Some of the crowd cheered, but the rest went back, chatting just a bit louder.

  
Andrei turned to his guards. "Go," he shooed them off, holding his arm out so that Andree could tuck her arm into his. "I will accompany my men downstairs, my wife will attend,"

  
"But _дорогая_...there has to be something interesting to do here!" Andree whined.

  
"Such as?"

  
"Perhaps I could find richer prey here, perhaps to clip?" She rubbed his arm, occasionally digging into it with her nails.

  
"In time," Andrei took Andree's hand, rubbing it as he led her downstairs.

\---

Theodora nearly gagged, Historia's head shot to her in concern.

  
"They're not even hiding it anymore, the scum," Theodora growled.

  
"Patience, Ms. Dallaway. We will clip their wings quite soon," Gretchen soothed.

  
"I suppose..."

  
Theodora walked to the back of the building, pushing open the glass doors and leaning on the wall, pulling out her cigar and preparing it, placing it between her lips.

  
Gretchen was nearby, hiding behind a pillar whilst Historia sat on the floor next to the pillar.

  
She played around with her pocket watch, fiddling with the buttons, and seeing what she could reflect off her mirror.

  
In her peripheral, she noticed one of the suited men loading his gun whilst his glare was on her and the pillar she and Gretchen were around, also reflecting in her small mirror before he put the gun away and got up from the table, stuffing his hands into his suit pockets and whistling.

  
Historia tugged on Gretchen's leg, sweat beads forming on the side of her head.

  
"Yes?"

  
"One of those suited men was staring at us, I'm pretty sure they're armed as well,"

"They were informed of our presence just recently," Gretchen figured out.

\---

"Ms. Telltale?"

  
Telltale kept herself at the railing, looking at the Mafioso next to her.

  
"Yes?"

  
"I received an anonymous tip earlier. One woman claimed to have heard somebody refer to another woman as 'Theodora', and she believes it may be the Theodora Dallaway you're looking for,"  
Telltale gripped the railing, feeling it crack under her. 

  
"May we...take this in private?"

  
He paused, his face conflicted, but nodded. "I will follow,"

  
Telltale took him to the other room, turning on the lights to a dim setting and closing the door. As soon as she did, she grabbed him by the tie.

  
"YOU MEAN SHE FUCKING GOT IN?!"

  
The mafioso held his hands up, his legs shaking slightly. "Yes! Look, Ms. Telltale, by the time the citizens came in, most of us were already in and bothered!"

  
Telltale dropped him, placing a shaking fist against her rapidly thumping heart.

  
"How did the woman describe her?" she finally whispered.

  
"She couldn't get much, other than tall and with brunette hair. She only described what she was wearing as 'a suit without its jacket',"

  
"Was she with anybody else?"

  
"Two other people. A man, and another woman,"

  
"Does she have a description for them too?"

  
"Well, the man was wearing a suit but he wasn't one of us. He wore one of those plague doctor masks. She said he was taller than the target. The other was much shorter, and with short black hair,"

  
Telltale took short, labored breaths. "Make sure they don't leave, by any means necessary. Get your men on this and summon William for me,"

  
"Yes, Ms. Telltale," the Mafioso left the room.

  
Telltale pinched the bridge of her nose before staring at the table in front of her - occupied with a few glass bottles and a vase. She ran over to it and swung her arm, causing the bottles and the vase to shatter and slide off the table, Telltale flipping the wooden object over and causing it to violently thump on the ground.

  
She went over to the stool her servant was on earlier and stomped on it, causing wooden splinters to fly up and the rest of the legs to fly back with the sheer force she used.

  
Telltale leaned on her bookcase, holding her arm and analyzing the bruises, scrapes, and cuts that now littered the skin. She heard a knock and allowed the person in.

  
"Oh my, what happened, Constantine?" William ignored her shaking figure in the corner, kneeling to the shattered glass and drying wine on the floor and picking one of the pieces up, grinding it into a fine powder between his fingers and sprinkling it on the floor.

  
"They fucking got in, William, they got in, they got in, they got in-"

  
William rushed over to her, grabbing her by the wrist and holding her up. "What do you mean?" his eyes seemed rather panicked as well.

  
"Theodora and her fucking roaches got in here, but...they won't survive, I've got all of Andrei's men onto them...I'll see to it-"

  
William shook her violently. "Focus! They require a keycard to get up here, they won't be able to touch you unless they bother making themselves more of a target!"

  
Telltale pulled her wrist from William, rubbing it and turning her back towards him.

  
"Yes...we'll be fine," Telltale concluded.

  
"I'm going back outside, you can either stay here or come along, William," Telltale slowly stepped out of the room, allowing her beat-up arm to fall to her side.

\---

Theodora came back inside, Historia sat up and went to her.

  
"They found out we're here, Theodora. We don't have much time left,"

  
"Damn, we'll have to rush this arrest. We'll need a way to get up there," 

  
Theodora pointed to the mezzanine.

  
"And a probably a keycard as well,"

  
Historia saw an employee walking towards the bathrooms.

  
"I think we just found our access card," Historia pointed. Theodora pulled out her gun, loading it.

  
"You two either stay here or find a way up there, I'll get it,"

  
"We shouldn't split up like th-"

  
"I can handle it, Historia. You and Delacroux will be fine, now go!"

  
Theodora ran to the bathrooms, occasionally hiding from some of the walking Mafiosos in the rare places of darkness the Casino had before finally entering it, hiding behind one of the stall doors.  
After a few minutes, she heard the clicking of a stall door and the responding creek that signified its opening, the water running from the lined up sinks soon after. Theodora emerged from her spot, going to the sink next to the employee and leaning the muzzle of the gun against their back. They jolted, becoming doe-eyed as they turned off the sink and held their hands up.

  
"Keycard, make it quick," Theodora demanded, the person immediately went into their pocket, fumbling for it before handing it to her. Theodora still shot, the person falling down but with no immediate wounds. Theodora held them, laying them against the wall and then switching her gun from 'stun' to 'kill'.

  
"Sorry 'bout that," she apologized.

  
Theodora wandered, going to find Gretchen and Historia before she felt metal press against the back of her neck.

  
"Found you," the Mafioso whispered behind her. Theodora tightened her face, placing her gun against the side of his head. "I don't think so," and shot. The sound rang out in the room, causing the crowd to immediately murmur and scream.

  
Theodora began to run out, pulling out her personal pad and dialing Gretchen's number, he picked up.

  
"I killed one of the bastards, Delacroux! Did you find a way in?!"

  
"Ms. Moreau and I found a secondary entrance to the mezzanine at the back of the building," he answered smoothly, Theodora immediately diving out of the glass doors and dashing to the determined spot.

  
"Did you get the card?!" Historia shouted over the chaos in the building, Theodora nodded and pulled it out, swiping it against the scanner. It accepted and opened the door for them. They rushed in, going up the staircase to the area.

  
Theodora tossed it to Historia, who caught it and threw it into her pocket. They stopped to turn the corner and found Telltale and William in the middle of the hallway. William caught sight of them first, going down the hall. 

  
"I can't catch them bo-" Gretchen ran across Theodora in pursuit of William.

  
Telltale went to the room at the end of the hall, closing the doors. "Stay here," Theodora told Historia, going to the end of the hall and allowing herself into the room.   
Historia checked for anything behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heights for the main characters if you're interested :
> 
> gretchen - 187.96 cm \\\ 6'2
> 
> historia - 167.64 \\\ 5'6
> 
> theodora - 182.88 \\\ 6'


	5. Chapter 5

Gretchen paused at the door, looking down each, almost infinite hallway before taking a deep breath, puffing his chest up and entering the room, closing the door behind him.   
He reached a hand out to the wall on his left, the motion-detecting lightswitch recognizing the quick wave of his palm and turning on the lights.

  
Gretchen turned to his right side, suddenly flying back as a heavy, glass object came into contact with his chest and mask. It shattered all over him as he swept the pieces off with the side of his hand. His top hat fell on the floor.

  
Gretchen was able to look up fast enough to see William towering over him, Gretchen scrambled to get up but William was quicker, going to his side and kicking him in the side, launching Gretchen against the wooden desk near the window. Gretchen took a deep gasp of air as he made contact with the wood.

  
He knelt up, grasping onto the edge of the table for balance but William slammed his fist onto it, causing his fingers to straighten and his palm to go flat against the table. Gretchen was raising himself when William grabbed the top of his head, dragging him to the window and throwing his head against it, causing the glass to cover the area around him and other shards to fall out of the other side.  
The brief period Gretchen's head was forced out of the window, he managed to leer at the falling glass - far from the ground and disappeared into the shadowy snow.

  
Gretchen set his leg back, stomping on William's foot and rubbing into it with his heel, William came back, and Gretchen elbowed him in the nose, William fell back onto the table, shouldering most of the impact on his elbows.

  
William's hand felt around rapidly, trying to find a sharp instrument before settling with a scissor that was placed into a holder and closing it in his fist, slashing at Gretchen's waist with it. William let his other hand wipe at his bleeding nose.

  
Gretchen ran to the other side of the table, jumping back when William turned around and slid across it, going to stab Gretchen's neck. Gretchen caught both of William's wrists, squeezing it and throwing him onto the floor - but his head angled at the edge of that desk.

  
William took the blow, his head bouncing off the desk before collapsing on the floor.

  
Gretchen went to his body, going to grab the scissors from him.

  
William's upper body suddenly came up (although slower than usual), grabbing Gretchen's beak and pulling his mask off, then punching his face hard enough and kicking his knees so Gretchen took his place on the floor.

  
Gretchen's hand drew up, shaking as he stroked the exposed parts of his skin around his eyes.

  
He was unmasked.

  
William stood over him, his mask in hand as he threw it to the side.

  
Gretchen's head slowly turned to William's strict face, rapidly blinking. 

  
His black balaclava covered everything but left space for his eyes. His eyes had a pitch-black sclera, the irises a harshly contrasting neon green with a perfectly blended, black pupil as well.

  
William's long arm reached out, grabbing the metal coat rack near the right side of the door that he was hiding next to. His grip almost denting, he raised the object.

  
"Farewell, Gretchen,"

  
Gretchen clenched his fist, rolling out of the way as the rack struck the floorboards, causing them to break and dent.

  
"You are very tedious," William growled, throwing the coat rack on the floor where Gretchen was. He lowered to Gretchen's presence on the floor, Gretchen took the rack nearby and swung it at William's ankle.

  
William let out a desperate yell and fell onto his knees, his ankle limp and shooting up red-hot pain up his arms and into his chest cavity. William grit his sharp teeth but was pushed back flat on the floor, causing his teeth to scrape his lip, coated with dry blood from his nose.

  
Gretchen knelt on William, grabbing the top of his scalp and forcing his head back, exposing his vulnerable neck to the wall. Gretchen pulled out the scissors from his pocket - his blood on the rather oddly sharp blade half-dried as he opened it, placing the bottom blade against his neck, digging it in far enough...

  
"No...No! NO!"

  
William screamed but was cut abrupt, short as Gretchen swiped right, drawing the fine line against William's neck and fresh, red blood spurting out onto the blade and floor, covering Gretchen's hand and the floor in front of him with it.

  
Gretchen threw the scissors on the floor next to him, gently laying William's exsanguinated, moon pale corpse on the floor and getting up.

  
Gretchen went to retrieve his mask, sliding it back onto his face and placing his top hat back on.

  
He noticed a piano parallel to the dented desk, he pulled its low seat out and sat on it, taking the cover off of the keys and beginning to play a soft encore.


	6. Chapter 6

Telltale looked around the room for any potential weapons, but it was mostly barren, the room only lined with empty shelves, a table, and couches.

Telltale silently cursed her interior designer, but her shoulders forced themselves up as she saw Theodora enter the room, her gun pointed at Telltale and two manacles balanced on her other hand's index finger.

"You got in?!" Telltale yelled from the other side of the room, bracing herself against the shelves.

Theodora raised an eyebrow, revealing the keycard.

"Your employees were kind enough to give me my access card. You should follow in their path unless we do it the hard way,"

Theodora aimed her gun at Telltale's chest. 

"And this encounter ends up with me stunning you,"

Telltale forced a laugh.

"Even if you arrest me, William will take over, and he'll get you back in my name,"

Theodora seemed mildly amused, her finger inching closer to the trigger.

"That is if he doesn't attempt to severely hurt Dr. Delacroux, forcing the Good Doctor to use any force necessary to protect himself,"

Telltale frowned, her eyes widened at Theodora and she clenched closer to the bookshelf.

Theodora walked towards her, swinging the manacles at her.

"I've been waiting for this day for so long,"

Telltale straightened herself, waiting for Theodora to come close in range before pushing her into the bookshelf, jumping over the coffee table, and attempting to flee the room. She caught onto the doorknob but fell onto her knees when Theodora managed to aim at her back, stunning Telltale.

Theodora ran over to the incapacitated Telltale, grabbing her wrists and quickly snapping the manacles onto them. Telltale soon recovered, pulling on Theodora's hair and almost punching her before the manacles shocked her, causing her to seize on the floor for a few seconds with a yelp.

Theodora grabbed Telltale's shoulder, forcing her onto her feet.

"I suppose you forgot Xesbveci machinery. That was a wake-up call, now..."

Theodora pulled Telltale back, reading her rights to her as she swung the door open, pushing Telltale outside.

"Theodora!" Historia yelled from down the hall, running over to her. "You got her?"

"Yes, it was rather easy," Theodora teased.

"I can see. Come, we have to check up on Dr. Delacroux,"

Theodora agreed, leading Telltale down the hall as well as Historia went to the room Gretchen was, stopping when she heard the piano music from inside. Historia crossed her fingers, barging in with Theodora and Telltale close behind.

The room was vaguely musky, Gretchen was perfectly straight at the piano, playing it tenderly. The next sight was William's body lying just a few feet away - dark, dried blood under him.

"YOU KILLED HIM! YOU FUCKING ANIMAL!" Telltale screamed, her hands shaking. "I told you so," Theodora responded coldly, setting Telltale in the corner as she went to Gretchen. He stood up, finishing his song.

"What happened, Delacroux?"

"Mr. Ainsworth made an attempt on my life, I have done what was necessary for my survival,"

Theodora glanced to the body, urging Gretchen and Historia to the doorway and bringing Telltale there.

They went downstairs to their teleporter section, Theodora placed a shaking Telltale onto one metal pad, Theodora standing on the one next to her.

"Historia, send us on our way to the nearest precinct," Theodora ordered. Historia typed it in, but then looked up. "You're not coming along with us?"

"No, you two go back to the hotel, I'll have to be the one to bring her there. I'll tell you when I come back,"

Historia pressed the button to send them there, their particles breaking up and them soon phasing out of the place.

Historia laid against the teleporter console, yawning and rubbing her eyes. 

"I'm sick and tired of this place already, Doctor. I just want to go home already," Historia lamented, Gretchen helped her up, typing their hotel address into the console as Historia stumbled to stand on the metal pad.

"We are nearly finished with the process, Ms. Moreau," Gretchen comforted, hitting the button to teleport them there and running onto his pad, going along with Historia.

\---

Once Theodora came into the precinct's teleporter room, she led Telltale down the hall, the rest of the detectives in her way waltzed out of it, staring and leering at the strange detective and Constantine Telltale.

She made her way into the main room, where two other detectives went to take Telltale away and greeted her.

"Where is your Captain's office?" she asked, one of them turned and pointed to it. Theodora followed, knocking on it and putting her hands behind her back, watching the rest of the detectives work and chat with their colleagues.

"Come in," another voice said, Theodora, pushed open the door (which had a small bell, oddly enough) and closed it behind her, pulling the shades down and approaching the desk.

"Hello. I am Detective Theodora Dallaway from Monroe, Xesbvecistan. I made a rather important arrest recently so I sent it to your precinct,"

The Captain looked through his window. "I saw. You must be the one that engaged the investigations, right?"

"Yes, sir,"

"I was confused on why you would not put your name on it, however, it is no small fry, so I see the point now,"

He went to his chair, sitting on it and leaning back.

"Did you manage to catch her colleague as well? As I recall, she worked with another man named William Ainsworth,"

Theodora shook her head, fumbling with her fingers. "No, William was killed when he attempted to murder one of my colleagues, his body is at Telltale's Grand Casino in Libitina,"

"I see..."

Theodora went to leave. "Well, I just wanted to clarify, make sure you're ready for the press coverage and all that, y'know? Good lu-"

"No, don't leave yet,"

Theodora went to grab the doorknob, but her fingers simply brushed against it. "Sir?"

"We need to keep you here for a while, at least a couple of days to help with the processing,"

"I can manage that. I've got a hotel nearby already so I don't need anything handed to me, Sir,"

"How fortunate. You are dismissed, however, you may not leave the precinct yet, we will come to you in a few minutes,"

"Yes," she left, going to the hallway and sitting on one of the benches pressed up against the wall, pulling out her personal pad and dialing a number onto it, holding it up to her ear.


	7. Chapter 7

Historia rubbed her dripping hair with the pristine, white towel the hotel provided, her emulator warm and busy in her lap. 

  
The room would have been dead silent, enough to hear a pin drop and scatter onto the floor without Gretchen's presence in the shower, the water pattering from the bathroom but no other defining aspects of it like steam. He also laid his suit, vest, and dress shirt he was wearing earlier on a chair, neatly folded. 

  
Historia asked him about it, he was straight forward with his intentions - that he'd get them mended and his suit dry-cleaned but he needed to buy a new pair of gloves, causing Historia to wondered if he bought spares of those as well.

  
Setting aside her emulator on the couch's cushions, she lifted from them to put her cup into the cleaning hatch of the wall, listening to the water and detergent slosh around.

  
Historia heard the pulsing and soft, but neutral jingle from Gretchen's personal pad in his bedroom. She quietly slipped in, picking it up and answering it.

  
"Delacroux?"

  
"He's in the shower right now, Theodora. You dropped Telltale off?"

  
"Oh, hey Historia. Look, I can call back later if-"

  
"No, it's fine, you can tell me," Historia held it closer to her ear - a bit red from having Drajika's earpiece in for the hours she was there at the Casino.

  
"Fine then. Well, I had a small talk with their Captain, they'll be processing Telltale just fine, but I'll have to stay in Provectus for a few more days to help them with the rest of the processing afterward, I think it's around four days,"

  
"So you're not coming back with us to Xesbvecistan?"

  
"Nope, sorry, Historia. Is Delacroux alright? He got a bit hurt earlier,"

  
"A bit is an understatement, but yeah he is. I checked earlier and in the cabinets, they have a regenerator, plentiful gauze, yeah,"

  
"That's good, that probably means he'll be spending a bit of time in there long after his shower though. By the time I go back to the hotel, you two will probably be on the capsule home,"

  
"Yeah..."

  
Both lines were silent for a while.

  
"Well, I'll see if I can find time to talk to you two tomorrow. Good night,"

  
"Good night, Theodora,"

  
Historia hung up, placing Gretchen's personal pad back where it was and leaving his bedroom.

  
She sat back down onto the couch, noticing she missed a call from Mercer. 

  
Historia yawned, opening her previous messages with him and typing a hasty response.

  
_I apologize for missing your call. It is quite late here and I will be returning to Versailles in the morning tomorrow, so I must rest._

  
_I will see you and Elliot again soon._

  
Historia turned off her emulator after sending the message to Mercer, placing it onto the table in front of her and laying down, curling up with the blanket. The last thing she saw in her dying vision was the light that came from Gretchen's open bathroom door and the edge of the glass chamber.

\---

Gretchen and Historia waited in front of the glass doors for the capsule back to Xesbvecistan, Gretchen occasionally lifting his wrist to check his watch and Historia flipping her pocket watch open as their other hand was occupied with their luggage.

  
"Oh! Dr. Delacroux, I forgot to tell you-"

  
"I was informed by Ms. Dallaway last night, Ms. Moreau," Gretchen held his hand up.

  
"I'm glad. I apologize for not telling you last night, I was tired,"

  
"Your apologies are not needed, you needed rest,"

  
"Capsule for 09:30!" The voice above announced.

  
The capsule shot into the station, the glass doors opening with the capsule doors alongside it and allowing the waiting people to enter.

  
Historia and Gretchen chose a compartment near the door, closing the sliding doors and Historia synthesizing a glass of water for herself. She looked outside of the window, wanting to take a look at the station one last time before it shot out into space.

  
"Dr. Delacroux, are you glad about going back to Xesbvecistan?"

  
"I am not going to Versailles, however, I am relieved,"

  
"Where are you going after we drop off?"

  
"Québec,"

  
"The capital district? You live there?"

  
Gretchen nodded.

  
"It must be nice,"

  
"Indeed,"

  
Historia downed a quarter of her water, tapping on it with her finger and looking down at her warped reflection in the clear liquid.

  
"Doctor...how could you?"

  
"Excuse me?"

  
"How did you just...play the piano, when William tried to kill you, and the corpse you created just a few feet from you just laid there?"

  
Gretchen made sure nobody was near or walking past their compartment door, and inched closer to Historia.

  
"He made an attempt on my life, I do not suffer pity for those who do,"

  
"Dr. Delacroux, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but you speak of it like people have challenged you before,"

  
He stayed silent until he responded.

  
"He was not the first, nor was he special," Gretchen leaned back into his chair, looking out the window. Historia did so as well, trying to see what he saw. There was nothing other than the blue energies outside from their total speed, quickly pulling into the fully-lit station of Versailles.

  
Gretchen got up, pushing the compartment doors open for Historia, who meekly stepped out of them. Gretchen followed until they were off the capsule and the rest went on.

  
"Farewell, Ms. Moreau. Our voyage was quite insightful," He held his hand out, Historia shook it.

  
"Thank you for coming along with us as well, Dr. Delacroux," Historia wished, peppily letting go of his hand. Gretchen tipped his top hat to her, before turning around and heading towards the farthest staircase.

  
"Historia!" she heard Mercer's voice yell far behind her, practically feeling his happiness and relief rolling off of him and calming the room.

\---

Theodora sat at her assigned desk, clicking her stylus rapidly whilst figuring out her next sentences, scrambling to publish it on the work pad's screen.

  
After she finally finished this paperwork, she almost enthusiastically placed the stylus down, clicking the pad off and placing it to the side with the rest of the completed ones. She placed her forehead in her hands, closing her eyes just for a little bit to distract herself from the perpetually busy precinct of this strange planet.


	8. Chapter 8

Historia picked on a light stride to Mercer's position, who practically ran at her. Once they were close enough, Mercer wrapped his arms around Historia, Historia wrapping one of her arms around him as well whilst still keeping her grip on her suitcase.

  
"You missed me a lot, didn't you?" Historia teased when Mercer pulled back. Mercer shook his head.

  
"No, I'm just getting Cabin Fever from your house and I'm glad to leave,"

  
"No shame," Historia remarked, walking to the staircase with Mercer next to her. Most of the people from their left cleared out - on the capsule to the Federation.

  
"Oh, were you alright last night? I never entered your call, I only messaged you and then fell asleep,"

  
"We were fine, it was just the regular check-up calls as usual,"

  
"Good,"

  
They ascended up the staircase, going through the revolving glass doors and meeting the outside. Historia looked up, closing her eyes and taking in Xesbvecistan's atmosphere. Opening her eyes, she was met with the familiar lilac sky and orange sun, high in the corner and shielded by the clouds before appreciating the water canopy above. There were no colors that faded to black.

  
Mercer waved his hand in front of Historia's face before defecting to snapping his fingers in her ear, she refocused.

  
"Sorry, I just missed this place," Historia said. "Yeah, I get it," Mercer responded. Historia picked her suitcase back up, dragging it to a teleportation booth nearby. Mercer cleared his throat, causing Historia to pause her movements.

  
"We can go to that cafe you liked,"

  
"The one we went to when we first discussed the 'whole thing'?"

  
Mercer nodded.

  
"That's agreeable, but I still want to take the booth, come along," Historia urged, opening the door for him. Mercer stepped in, taking Historia's suitcase into his arms so that she could enter and have enough space. Historia typed in the address on the keypad, clicking the button.

  
Mercer pressed his body against the door, which opened it (aided by the extra weight from the suitcase) and Historia came out, taking the suitcase by the handle out of Mercer's arms. Historia admired the tree, with their brown-grey trunks, red leaves, and the bright blue fruits that complimented the various leaves swaying in the chilling wind.

  
"It's winter in Giacomo too," Historia told Mercer, who looked to her when she informed him. "Is it?" Historia nodded. "They're almost similar in their seasons, it just snowed in the Federation and you guys haven't had snow yet,"

  
Mercer's lips quirked up. "How do you know?"

  
"You would have told me if we did,"

  
"...Fair enough,"

  
Once the bell overhead chimed with their existence, they knew they were at the same cafe.

  
"Look, the booth we were in last time is empty," Historia pointed to it. Mercer raised both his eyebrows at her. "You remember?" "It didn't happen that long ago," Historia answered.

  
Historia brought Mercer to the table. Mercer sat down, Historia laid her suitcase on the floor before doing the same.

  
"Are you going to order anything?"

  
"I might get actual food other than coffee, it felt like I didn't eat at all yesterday," Historia remarked, summoning the menu which projected itself in the middle of the table. "How about you?"

  
"Nah, I ate," Mercer answered. Historia narrowed her eyes at him. "I hope it wasn't my food,"

  
Mercer nervously rubbed his wrist whilst Historia distracted herself with selecting her dish, not in the best mood for a half-hearted lecture.

  
Once she made her selection, she clicked the menu off and placed her hands on the table.

  
"So..."

  
"Well, you can start with the journey," Mercer brought up.

  
"I can't tell you everything. You know that, Mercer,"

  
"I know, but just tell me about the planets you went to,"

  
"Well, the first one's Arida Bellum,"

  
"That place? How was it?"

  
"The cities were beautiful, they recovered pretty well. Other than that, it was pretty humid there, even at night,"

  
"Was it that bad?"

  
"No, the place I was at had a good circulation system so it was fine. Beautiful red skies though,"

  
The waiter came with Historia's order, placing it down in front of her and placing Mercer's drink in front of him. He quickly went back into the kitchen.

  
"That's good, and Giacomo Federation?"

  
"The air's a bit thinner there than in Arida and Xesbvecistan, but it was manageable. Nobody suffered over it. I'm not the biggest fan of their artificial sky, but the buildings are a lovely sight, especially the skyline when it lights up at night,"

  
Mercer took a drink.

  
"I'm surprised the snow didn't melt from all those lights they have,"

  
Historia grinned.

  
"Well, that's one way to put it," she twirled the spaghetti she ordered on her fork. "You didn't suffer too many allergies when catsitting, right?"

  
Mercer sneezed, almost on command, covering it with his sleeve before pulling his arm back. "No, I almost ran out of suppressors, though,"

  
"I apologize,"

  
"No, no. It's fine, tomorrow I'm getting some more,"

  
"If you insist," Historia placed her fork into her mouth, chewing on the noodles.

\---

Historia placed the fork down into the plate, which gave a supporting tap against the bone china plates.

  
"Did you meet anybody special?"

  
Historia paused, pondering a given answer or a silent lie.

  
"Other than my colleagues? Of course not,"

  
"'Come for the planets, stay for the people' they said," Mercer remarked sarcastically.

  
"Don't get so upset over it, Mercer. You won't be going there any time soon," Historia said as she signed the digital pad the waiter gave her, placing the stylus down after she finished.

  
"Ouch,"

  
"It's true, come on," Historia got up from the booth, lowering herself to grip her suitcase. "I'm taking a teleportation booth back, I'm not making that walk. Are you bringing me home or do you want to go back?"

  
Mercer stretched his arms behind his head. "It would be best for you and El to have some time together after your time away,"

  
Historia closed her eyes. "Thanks a lot for accommodating me, Oscar. I was worried almost sick at the thought of leaving her alone,"

  
Mercer smiled softly. "Ooh, first name basis, that's important," he pats her shoulder. "Of course, Historia. I'll lead you to the booth,"

  
They went outside. Historia placed her suitcase in, turning to Mercer. "We'll talk later,"

  
"Of course. See you, Historia," Mercer closed the door, waving his hand at her.

  
Historia typed her address into the keypad and reappeared in front of the house. She hesitantly waited for her vision to recover from the brightness of the teleportation process, finally feeling steady enough to go up the porch's stairs and unlock her door.

  
As soon as she entered, she slammed it shut with her elbow, throwing her suitcase and duffle bag down next to the coat rack and hanging her umbrella and hat up.  
"El? My heart?" she called out from the empty house - relieved that it stayed dust-free and orderly.

  
Historia heard the soft padding of Elliot's paws come down the stairs before Elliot jumped, hastily striding towards Historia and rubbing against her legs desperately, purring. Historia smiled, picking Elliot up in her arms. Elliot stood still from the uncommon contact, soon easing into it.

  
"There you are, El," Historia cooed, rubbing her side.

  
"I won't be going away for a long time," she promised, glancing to the suitcase at the door but opting to unpack later, stepping up the stairs for a much-needed sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

"Dallaway!" Theodora's head followed the sound of the booming voice, seeing the Giacomoian Captain half-way out his office with the door leaning on his wide chest.  
The Captain signaled her over to his office by bending his finger in his direction, slipping back into his office. Theodora got up from her chair, lugging the work pads she filled out earlier and pushing the swivel chair back into the desk's crevice.

  
Theodora left the door slightly ajar, the gaps between the shades of the door's window only letting in a petite amount of light that the lamp in the corner of room supplemented. She placed the work pads down onto the desk.

  
"Is that it, Sir?"

  
"Yes, fine work, Dallaway. You are dismissed from the precinct. On behalf of the station, I'd like to thank you for helping with the investigation, send my compliments to your Captain back in Monroe,"

  
"Thank you, Sir, I will. Goodbye," Theodora left, closing the door behind her. She went to her temporary desk, pulling back the chair and grabbing her suitcase from the side of the crevice, dragging it out and replacing the space with the swivel chair. She went to leave but stopped. Turning around, she waved goodbye cheekily to her colleagues for the hot moment, most of them were still writing, typing, or talking with each other, staring down at their busy and crowded desks.

  
Theodora was half-way through the hallway when she bumped into somebody. She was about to apologize but the person spoke up first.  
"Are you Theodora Dallaway?"

  
"Yes, what do you want?" She continued walking, but the person stopped her. 

  
"Somebody is outside, they wanted to know if you were here,"

  
Theodora raised an eyebrow. 

  
"Who?"

  
"He says his name is Dr. Delacroux-"

  
"What?" Theodora leaned forward, half-yelling and running down the hallway, pushing the doors open so hard that they thunderously clapped against the walls, flying back to their normal positions. Some people stopped and stared.

  
Theodora jumped, seeing Gretchen sitting on the benches outside of the precinct, his back frigid against the wall. He looked up at Theodora, getting up. He had no luggage but held on to his walking cane.

  
"Ms. Dallaway," he greeted. Theodora's jaw hung wide open, before Theodora tightened it, stuttering her response.

  
"Dela...Delacroux? Why are you here? You were supposed to go back with Historia to Xesbvecistan and get back to your job in Québec," Theodora pointed out. Delacroux held his hand out. "May I?"

  
"Yeah...sure, just answer my question with that too," Theodora practically shoved it into his hand. Delacroux switched the hand his walking stick was in.

  
"Yes, I did take the scheduled capsule to Versailles with Ms. Moreau. However, I have come back to escort you to Monroe,"

  
"You didn't have to do that," Theodora countered as they took a booth back to the station. Gretchen shook his head. "I disagree," Theodora laughed. "Of course you do,"

  
"When is the capsule coming, Delacroux?"

  
"The following capsule for Monroe arrives at the station at 15:00,"

  
Theodora went to check her watch.

  
"There is no need, it is currently 14:30,"

  
Theodora tapped her foot on the ground, gritting her teeth. "Damn, 30-minute wait. Historia should be lucky she's home already,"

  
"You were occupied with a task of grave importance," Gretchen stated. 

  
"If I knew I had to do all that paperwork I would have set Telltale free," Theodora joked.

  
"Ms. Dallaway," Gretchen said in a firm, lecturing tone.

  
"Don't worry, Delacroux, it's all fine with me now," Theodora placed her chin onto her hands, her elbows digging into her lap.

\---

Theodora settled for a cup of coffee once they selected their compartment, which was in the middle of the capsule instead of near any of the doors.

  
"Delacroux, this is great and all and I'm glad that you came here,"

  
Theodora stopped for a moment as the capsule shot out of the station, coming into space.

  
"...But are you really going to be escorting me to my apartment door too?"

  
"I will see to it," Gretchen responded.

  
"Great, ol' ball and chain," Theodora rolled her eyes with the snark, occupying herself with her synthesized coffee to prevent her from rambling and ranting about Gretchen's firm decision on the matter. Gretchen only enabled with an amused "Indeed,"

  
Theodora had her knees propped up by her suitcase, she hid her smirk behind her half-empty cup, striking Gretchen's leg with her foot. Gretchen looked down, so Theodora drew her leg back near her seat and looked up in the corner, softly whistling.

  
"You have struck my leg with your foot on purpose," Gretchen called out flatly, Theodora humming and replying with a mocking "Yes,"

  
The capsule shot into the glass chamber of Monroe's station - more compact than other capsule stations and largely made of brick instead of Québec's glass or Léndinforma's metal aesthetics. There was a minuscule amount of people, most of them standing near or sitting on the benches in the middle of the station. This was supported by the fact that the screen above of the benches projected no awaited capsules for another two hours.

  
As Gretchen lugged Theodora's suitcase up the stairs, he asked "Will you be using the booth or will we traverse to your apartment on foot?"

  
Theodora sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Booth, I want it to be done with. I'll probably go on a jog later too,"

  
"Understood,"

  
Gretchen went to the nearest booth, holding the door open for her. Theodora went in and typed on the keypad, Gretchen joining her as they teleported.  
They went up one of the smaller, quieter elevators that the inside of Theodora's apartment complex offered, Gretchen following her to her door, which she was in the process of unlocking. She held it open with her foot, taking her suitcase from Gretchen's hand.

  
"Alright, this is where we drop off, bud," Theodora slid her suitcase into her apartment.

  
"Yes,"

  
"It was great traveling with you, Delacroux. I'm glad you decided to come with us, even if Historia's presence was a bit...rushed, to say the least,"

  
"It is my job, Ms. Dallaway. However, if it brings your mind to peace, I thank you for the sentiment. Farewell," Gretchen tipped his hat towards her, walking away with his footsteps and walking cane in sync.

  
"So long," she called out, closing her apartment door.


	10. Chapter 10

Historia laid in her bed, her knees under her chest and her hands laying limb near her face. Her blanket was pulled up to her chin, her head focused on the softness and warmth of her pillow, her half-mast eyes attempting to fall back asleep.

  
Elliot was curled up at the foot of her bed - not half-awake like Historia was but close enough to be almost comforting.

  
Historia's eyelids fluttered - but were forced awake when her personal pad on her nightstand next to her began pulsing and vibrating softly. Historia groaned, sluggishly dragging her arm out of her blanket to turn off her notifications. She tossed, quickly stuffing her arm back under her covers.

  
Elliot's head perked up, her whiskers twitching at the door as she hopped off the bed, going to the door and seeing a letter dropped off on the wooden floor there. She turned her head at it, touching it and clawing at it before beginning to meow.

  
Historia winced, attempting to drown out Elliot's increasingly noisy sounds before giving up, flattening her pillow against her heavily creased bed and throwing her covers off, stepping slowly downstairs. By the time she got to her staircase, she practically couldn't grip her railing - affixed to the wall, opting to slide her fingers down it as she descended instead.

  
"You can be so...bothersome at times, do you know that?" Historia didn't narrow her eyes at Elliot (or more so that she couldn't, unless she ends up blinding herself and having another futon sleeping day again that wakes up in dull pain spreading across her back) but furrowed her eyebrows at her.

  
She picked him up, placing Elliot on the first step and turning around to see why Elliot summoned her. There was a pearl white letter laying flatly on the floor. Historia bent, taking it between her two fingers and flipping it on the other side.

  
The letter was sealed shut by a red seal, Historia ran her fingers on it, affirming her suspicions that it was authentic wax. The seal had various intricate, highly-detailed patterns and symbols. There was an unfamiliar language engraved around the edge of the seal that framed the circular wax that even Historia couldn't make out with her wide arsenal, ending with the belief that this language was probably Arabic.

  
Historia's eyes went to the corner of the letter, which had writing on it from black ink. 

  
The letter was from Amarette.

  
Historia went back up the stairs, Elliot close on her heels as she went back into the bedroom, using her smallest finger to open the curtains slightly, only to lay down back in bed and place the letter on the opposite nightstand. She placed her letter opener next to it so it was there when she woke up and was more conscious instead of a dead woman walking.

  
Historia pulled her covers up, only half-way through her chest as she stared up at the ceiling, her hands calm on her flat stomach. Elliot came onto the bed, curling up on Historia's chest.

  
Petting her and weaving her fingers through Elliot's fluffy, comforting twilight fur, Historia checked her watch.  
It was only 12:14 pm.

  
Historia closed her pocket watch, placing it under her pillow and stretching her arm out to grab her pad and turn it on to check on her recent notifications and see what she had to respond to in the morning. Historia pulled it away from her face, closing her eyes and seeing bright, flashing whites pop up in the blackness of her vision before they faded out. She opened them again, seeing how the brightness of it automatically adjusted with her reactions.

  
Opening her inbox, the top messages sent to her had the time they were sent bolded, whilst the ones she checked before were desaturated. One of her more recent messages was from Mercer, no doubt in response to her 'coming home' message when she was still in the Federation.

  
The top four messages were from Theodora, Gretchen, Drajika, and Charen.

  
Historia shut it off, placing it back down.

  
She would write her thankful responses later, and they could celebrate together later, even when apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end of 2081 series, thanks for reading.


End file.
